"A big thanks to my fairy godmother!"
Currently, Bree has found her new home in the historical romance genre, writing Regency novels and novellas. Enjoying the mix of fact and fiction, she occasionally feels like a puppet master, forcing her characters into ever-new situations that will put their strength, their beliefs, their love to the test, hoping that in the end they will triumph and get the happily-ever-after we are all looking for.
You can find details of her work at
Join Bree’s Newsletter
A ROGUE AND SOME MISTLETOE
~ Book 5 of The Rogue Chronicles ~
by
LANA WILLIAMS
Lucy Gray lost everything just after her sixteenth birthday—her parents, her home, and her future. Since that terrible time, she’s lived with her great aunt in the quiet countryside. But an invitation from her cousin, Emma Waverly, to join their Christmas house party, along with a request to help Emma choose between several suitors, proves irresistible, even if it brings forth bittersweet memories of Christmas past.
Hugh Raybourne is pleased to be invited to a holiday house party at the fabulously wealthy Waverly’s country estate. The time has come to set aside his roguish ways and marry. Emma’s fortune would more than provide the money he needs to make his dream of breeding horses a reality. But meeting her cousin Lucy, with her quiet beauty and true heart, cause him to rethink his future and the man he wants to be.
Lucy soon realizes she’s falling for Hugh, but she has no fortune to offer him, and she’s too frightened of losing everything again to reach for a chance at happiness. With the help of some mistletoe, can Hugh convince the lady to take a chance on him?
Chapter One
Lincolnshire, England
November 1815
“You simply must come. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Lucy Gray stared at her cousin, Emma Waverly, with guarded suspicion. From experience, she knew some other purpose was behind this personal request to attend the Christmas house party that Emma’s parents were hosting.
“We’re just surprised you came all this way to ask us,” Lucy said. A glance at Aunt Edith—her great aunt, actually—who sat in her favorite chair before the fire in the sitting room, suggested she was astounded as well.
The invitation had arrived in the post two weeks ago, and Aunt Edith had already sent their regrets. Given her delicate health—whether real or imagined—she preferred the comfort of her own bed in her small home where she could rest when she wanted.
Yet Lucy couldn’t deny the invitation had filled her with an unexpected longing. In their youth, she and Emma, who was a year younger, had spent many holidays together. Days filled with ice skating and bough gathering, the lighting of the Yule log, and games of snapdragon and blindman’s buff.
Lucy’s parents had been alive then, the world bright and full of promise. The painful clutch that gripped her chest as memories flooded her had Lucy drawing a deep breath to ease the ache. After all, her parents had died over seven years ago, when her father lost control while driving their phaeton with his wife at his side, just after Lucy’s sixteenth birthday. But she still missed them so much, still grieved all the moments they hadn’t been able to share.
Based on Aunt Edith’s thoughtful expression, she was considering Emma’s request, much to Lucy’s astonishment. Edith Penrose, Lucy’s mother’s aunt, had been a widow for well over twenty years but rarely ventured out since Lucy had come to live with her. Lucy barely remembered Uncle William, who’d left his wife without children but with enough funds that she hadn’t been forced to remarry to survive.
“Perhaps we might come for a few days.” Aunt Edith looked at Lucy with one brow raised. “What say you, Lucy?”
“Please say you will.” Emma stared at Lucy imploringly with her large blue eyes, which only made Lucy more suspicious as to what her cousin’s true motive might be.
Yet the idea of spending the holidays with only Aunt Edith and the servants for company held little appeal. Aunt Edith rested in her bedchamber a good portion of the day, and while Lucy kept her company much of the time, the rest was filled with only needlework, letter writing, and reading. The servants were kind, of course, but the cook was much older, the housemaid much younger, and the footman, who also served as coachman, had family in the area. Lucy didn’t have any close friends, not the sort one shared confidences with while snuggled under the covers before blowing out the candle at night.
Lucy adored Aunt Edith but caring for her each and every day was a burden she hadn’t expected to bear at such a young age or for this long. As an only child, everyone in her extended family thought her the ideal candidate to care for Aunt Edith upon her parents’ deaths. In the passing years, no one had asked if she would like a Season in London or suggested they share in the caring of her aunt.
Especially not Emma.
As the beautiful daughter of a wealthy landowner who lived at a grand estate several hours to the north, Emma lived a charmed life. She had enjoyed two Seasons in London, caught the eye of several suitors, and her attire was always the height of fashion. With golden hair, wide blue eyes, and an engaging smile and manner that charmed everyone she met, her company was much sought after.
Lucy resisted the urge to smooth a hand along her simple blue woolen gown that had served her well the past three winters. She’d changed the lace collar and added ribbons to update its appearance, but little could be done to hide the worn cuffs and hem. Buying new gowns seemed an unnecessary expense when much of their time was spent at home.
With dark hair and brown eyes, she felt much like a country mouse when compared to Emma. Though she loved her cousin, it was impossible not to look at herself and her situation next to Emma’s and feel a certain lack.
Lucy reminded herself she had much to be grateful for and smiled as she reached over to pat her aunt’s arm, her heart hopeful that this Christmas might be different. “Wherever you will feel most comfortable.”
“You are a dear, Lucy.” Aunt Edith gripped Lucy’s hand. “Whatever would I do without you?”
Her appreciation was part of what kept Lucy at her side. Besides, where else would she go? What else would she do? Her parents’ home had gone to her father’s younger brother, who had a family of his own to raise along with his wife’s siblings.
In truth, after all these years of living a quiet existence in the country interspersed with only a few family gatherings and one trip to the coast to visit her aunt’s friend, reaching for more filled her with trepidation.
A rare gleam of excitement sparkled in her aunt’s brown eyes and lit a similar feeling in Lucy. “Christmas will soon be upon us,” her aunt said, “and it’s been years since we celebrated with the rest of the family. I think we should go.” She glanced at Emma. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble to have us.”